


Loose Lips

by ami_ven



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: mcsheplets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:45:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is a little inebriated.  So is Rodney.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loose Lips

**Author's Note:**

> written for LJ community "mcsheplets" prompt #019 "intoxication"

When John tried to stand up, the ground tilted beneath his feet, and he had to sit back down again.

He hadn’t remembered the land on New Athos being so unstable. If it did that often, someone was likely to fall and hurt themselves. He’d have to warn Halling about that. Just as soon as he could walk upright again.

“Let me help you, John,” said Teyla, appearing suddenly. She slid a hand under his elbow and hauled him to his feet.

“Thanks, Teyla,” he began, “but I’m—”

He pulled out of her grip and nearly fell before she caught him.

“You are inebriated,” she said.

“What? Can’t be, I only had six of those weird little fruity—”

“Eleven,” Teyla interrupted, starting away from the winding-down party with her hand under John’s elbow again.

“Really? Eleven? I could have sworn it was—”

“Eleven, John,” she repeated.

“Sorry,” he muttered, because really, she could have just left him there

“You will be sorrier in the morning,” Teyla replied, in good humor at his expense, and he leaned sideways against her shoulder. He never really minded when she picked on him like that— it was what he’d always imagined having a sister would be like.

“Teyla?” he asked, when they were several yards into the woods. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course, John.”

“Rodney and I are…” He waved his free hand vaguely. “You know. Sex.”

“That is not exactly a secret,” she said.

“What!?” John straightened suddenly, and almost toppled over again.

“To me,” Teyla clarified, as she tugged him back onto his feet, and he could hear her smile. “Those of us who care about you both are happy for you.”

He meant to ask who specifically it was that knew, but what came out instead was, “You’re happy for us?”

“Of course, John,” she repeated. “You are my friends.”

“Oh,” he said, and leaned against her shoulder again. “It’s just… I didn’t mean to… I mean, I tried not to… but he’s _Rodney_. How could I not fall for that? But nobody else seems to see that. They think he’s kind of an ass, but… okay, he kind of is. But they just don’t speak Rodney, that’s all. _You’re an idiot_ means _I was worried about you_ , and _Don’t you have a brain under all that hair?_ means _I know you’re smarter than you’re pretending to be_. Nobody else seems to hear that.”

“Perhaps you are simply better at listening,” Teyla suggested. She steered them around a few more trees, then into the field where the Lanteans had pitched camp.

John opened his mouth to protest, and shut it again. He _did_ listen to Rodney, even if he tuned out the words. Rodney’s hands said just as much as his mouth, and John quite enjoyed watching both. 

“He just looks so _hot_ when he’s ranting about stuff,” John said, then paused. “Is it weird I think that?”

Teyla laughed. “Not for you, John. Have you told Rodney that you feel this way?”

John shook his head, then regretted it as the world spun around him. “You know I can’t say stuff like that unless I’m inub— unub— What’d you say I was?”

“Inebriated,” Teyla supplied. “Though, if that is true, you may get your chance sooner than you think, John.”

“What—?”

“Put me down!” yelled a familiar voice. “I am perfectly capable of— Ow! Don’t just let go, you Neanderthal!”

Ronon came around the edge of the trees, holding a very red-faced Rodney upright by the back of his jacket. “He’s drunk,” the Satedan said, sounding amused.

“As is John,” Teyla told him.

“Hey!” both Earthmen protested, but were ignored.

Ronon snorted. “You didn’t have to listen to how hot he thinks Sheppard is when he does math and leans on stuff.”

“I did not,” Teyla agreed, pleasantly. “But I did hear a rather incoherent account of how John enjoys when Rodney speaks passionately about something.

“Hey!” John and Rodney protested again, then Rodney said, softly, “You do?”

“Yeah,” John agreed. “I thought you knew that.”

“Well, kind of. But I didn’t _know_.”

“Oh,” said John. 

“Yeah,” Rodney echoed.

“Whatever,” said Ronon, and pushed them both inside their tent.

John landed on his open bedroll, then winced when Rodney landed half on top of him. “Sorry,” Rodney muttered, and started to roll away, but John threw an arm around him.

“Stay,” he said.

“I—” Rodney began, then stopped. “Okay.”

He tucked himself against John’s side and started snoring, and John fell asleep to the familiar sound, feeling warm and content.

And when Teyla came to wake them the next morning, she brought them a very large thermos of coffee, so John decided he could probably forgive her for laughing at their hangovers.

THE END


End file.
